


My Jacket, Angel?

by Eris_Lovelorne



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Pining, its all about... the yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 02:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eris_Lovelorne/pseuds/Eris_Lovelorne
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale are headed to lunch, but it's winter in London and it's so very cold outside. Aziraphale is getting chilly and might need to ask his good friend if he can borrow his jacket.Oh my goodness, what will they possibly do?





	My Jacket, Angel?

It was winter in London, the next winter after the apocalypse-that-wasn't in fact. The two hadn’t really spoken too much since. Aziraphale went back to his bookshop and Crowley to… well, to take a well-earned nap.

There was snow on the ground. They were meeting for lunch. 

Crowley sauntered into the park, leather jacket hung over his shoulder, surveying it. He caught sight of Aziraphale, in the same outfit as always, who scrunched up his nose and gave him a little wave. Crowley's heart skipped but he successfully kept up his calm demeanor.

“Good morning, angel, how do you do today?”

“Why just lovely, my dear, it is always such a pleasure to see you,”

Aziraphale’s cheeks and nose were red, it was cute, but Crowley detected the barest hint of a shiver. A demon himself, blood-filled with hellfire, he didn’t really get cold, but maybe angels did, it’d been so long he couldn’t quite recall.

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket,” he said, in what he firmly believed to be a suave and nonchalant manner. 

“Oh, why,” said Aziraphale, looking away then looking back at Crowley from through his lashes, “I’ve got appearances to keep up. What would everyone think if they saw me… galavanting about in another man’s coat… what a scandal…”

A more perceptive man might think Aziraphale to be engaging in flirtatious behavior. But Crowley, well… 

“Ah, that’s a fair point, fair point indeed,” he nodded sagely. 

Aziraphale shivered again, markedly more pronounced this time.

“Oh my, but Crowley, it is so cold outside, whatever am I to do…” he lifted his hand to his forehead. 

“Well, we are on our own side, so, it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks. Please, wear this to keep yourself warm,” Crowley knitted his eyebrows in deep concern, holding his jacket out to Aziraphale. 

“I can’t thank you enough, old friend,” said Aziraphale, moving closer to Crowley. 

It took him a moment, then Crowley realized what he was supposed to do. He draped the leather coat over Aziraphale’s shoulders. They stood looking into each other eyes, their breath clouding in the cold. Aziraphale’s eyes flicked down to Crowley’s lips. Aziraphale began to lean in. But Crowley didn’t notice, pulling back and tugging on the sleeves of his shirt, making sure everything was in proper order and hung as it was supposed to. 

“Well, that should fix that then! I hope you start to warm up soon, lets head over to lunch and get you something warm to eat?” said Crowley brightly, turning to his friend. 

Aziraphale took a deep breath.

“Of course, my dear, right away.”

They began to walk to the restaurant, but Aziraphale stopped suddenly, 

“Crowley,” he said. Crowley looked at him, turning his full attention, ready in a moment to do whatever Aziraphale might need. 

“Crowley… your jacket covers my arms, but not my hands, and you see I’ve forgotten my mittens, so they’re so very cold…” said Aziraphale, doing his best not to get his hands anywhere near the pockets in the jacket.

“Oh, angel, what a predicament,” said Crowley, furrowing his brow, deep in thought, “We must hurry to the restaurant to warm you up.”

“I don’t think I’ll make it in time, I need to preserve my poor fingers, for reading and such you know. Perhaps… you could hold onto my hands… to keep them warm you know?” he looked up Crowley through his lashes once more, blinking at him a few times.

Hold hands? With Aziraphale? Crowley had never dreamed of such a thing being possible. Of course, he knew this was very platonic hand-holding, but still, to touch Aziraphale’s skin, that was something he’d only dreamt of. Never even considered it might come to pass.

“Ashjjyuhkjna,” said Crowley. “W-why, well, if it's necessary, then I suppose I must.”

“It is, very,” said Aziraphale immediately, reaching out his hand. 

Crowley took it, tentatively, like he was approaching a spooked wild animal. He, of course, didn’t want to go too fast or scare off the poor angel. Aziraphale was, to his credit, very patient with him, letting him take his time to painstakingly slowly intertwine their hands. 

“Alright, let's continue on our way then,” said Crowley, leading the Aziraphale down the street.

They walk for a few more blocks, chatting amicably about the past few months, Aziraphale filled Crowley in on all the book-shop drama he’d missed. Then suddenly, Aziraphales teeth began to chatter, rather violently in fact.

“Oh C-crowley,” he said again, raising the hand he wasn’t being held to his head, “My l-lips, they’re so c-cold.”

“My dear, what can we do? All I can think is to hurry to the restaurant, but its two entire blocks away,” said Crowley, with genuine concern.

“I-if it’s n-not too much to ask, you may very well need to k-kiss me,” chattered Aziraphale with the utmost seriousness.

Crowley pondered. He’d love to kiss Aziraphale, he often thought about it. In a friendly way, of course. But, was it really okay? Could it really be possible for Aziraphale to be willing to kiss him?

“I… I would love to,” said Crowley, “I- akgh- I mean- yes, I am willing to perform this, medically necessary procedure, for you, my oldest friend, in his time of need.”

Aziraphale nodded gravely. He brought the hand that wasn’t being held up to Crowley’s face, cupping his jaw. Crowley floundered for a moment, then put his hand on Aziraphale’s waist.

Aziraphale leaned up, pressing their lips together. They were warm and soft. It was chaste and over rather quickly. Aziraphale began to pull back, but reflexively Crowley chased him, pressing another kiss to his lips. He was mortified for a moment before Aziraphale smiled against his lips then tugged at his hair, deepening their kiss. 

They exchanged quite a number of kissed on that snowy street corner, which was miraculously empty for the time of day.

Finally, they broke apart, continuing on their way to the restaurant but stopping every few feet to make sure Aziraphale's lips didn’t get too cold, their hands joined the entire time.

They realized once they found themselves in front of the bookshop, that they’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. But it was no matter, Aziraphale invited Crowley in for a cup of tea, that never actually got made. They ended up on the couch ensuring the last vestiges of cold had been chased away. Then again in the bed upstairs, to be absolutely certain. 

The next morning, Crowley headed back to his flat, a spring in his step. It crossed his mind, he’d couldn’t recall a single instance of feeling cold when he’d been an angel. Huh. How odd. Then he promptly dismissed the thought. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me over on tumblr! You can find me at erislovelorne.tumblr.com


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